Undone
by InTheDarkOfTheNight
Summary: Summaries suck. 'Your plan has come undone, and you could not be more grateful'...


Undone

**_A/N: Hey, me here. My first story that I've published online, though not the first I've written. I tend to write stories from the 'you' POV, so do excuse me. Mild slash, and really angsty. You'll find my work normally is. Okay, I'm done here. Flame if you must, but expect a reply from an angry English teenager. Much love..._**

You sit in your usual chair. It is a perfectly ordinary day: The twins are still pranking the first years; Neville is, yet again, searching frantically for Trevor; and your sister and Dean are still snogging. You do not understand why the world has not stopped going round, why time still goes on. How can everything be normal (as normal as things can be, in your life, that is) when you have reached the most shocking revelation of your life? How can everything continue to be the same when you have realised you are in love?

People expect it to be her, and how could they not? For you have never showed any signs that you are different. You have never told anyone. But today, you think, you will have to tell somebody. Anybody. The only person you can think of to tell is _her_.

She is shocked, naturally. You think she has every right to be, as this is certainly unexpected, to say the least (though, for some unknown reason, you feel an unusual sort of _pride_ for managing to keep it so well hidden). She supports you, and you are glad that she is patient with you. She says that you have to tell everyone. You say that you are scared, that you think people will hate you. That _he _will hate you. You think he will hate you because you are gay. She reassures you that he is not like that. He does not judge people, so she says. But you deserve to be judged. You are not telling her the whole truth.

After giving you a bone-crushing hug and a peck on the cheek, she leaves you to your thoughts. You wish she hadn't. Because in her absence, the only thing you can think about is what you didn't tell her.

You didn't tell her that the reason you are doing so terribly (more so than usual) in your classes is because you cannot concentrate. Not with him there.

You did not tell her that with every single, tiny touch he receives from _anyone _makes your blood positively boil with jealousy.

You did not tell her that you are in love with _him. _Because how could she, the-girl-with-all-the-books, Hermione Granger, ever understand you?

You decide that you will have to come out, because keeping it hidden is not an option. You also decide that you will never tell anyone that you love him.

You manage to keep up the pretence for four months, four painful months. Four months you lasted, until _that day_. The day when your plan fell to pieces.

That day started as each and every one of your days had started for the past four months. You wake up early, earlier than what used to be your usual, and sit on your bed. You sit on your bed in your pyjamas and just look at him. Just look. This is the only opportunity you get to take in his utter beauty. You cannot see his eyes, for they are closed as he sleeps, but you know that they look different when he does not wear his glasses. He does not look strange without the wire-framed spectacles, just different. You are, as you are every morning, strongly tempted to reach out and trace his scar. You refrain from doing so, for fear that the act would awaken him. As he wakes up, you, as is the norm in these four months past, pull your shirt over your head and begin to get dressed.

The two of you head downstairs for your breakfast. You tell a joke, and delight in the way he laughs uproariously at it. Now you come to think of it, the joke itself was not, in fact, particularly funny.

And your day goes on.

It is not until the night time that everything goes so very _wrong, _yet somehow still _right_.

You cannot sleep that night, so you leave the dormitory, leave the Gryffindor tower itself. You cast a rather poor invisibility charm on yourself, but you know that nobody will see you in the darkness. You tiptoe outside, down to the lake and you lie down.

You are perfectly content to simply lie there and gaze at the stars until the sun rises. You know that it is possible; you have done it many a night over the torturous four months. However, you feel, rather than see, someone lie down next to you. You look to see who it is and it's _him_. He asks you what you are doing out there, so late at night. You reply that you are thinking. He nods slightly, and, with your peripheral vision, you see him shuffle closer to you. He tucks himself up to your side, and twines a leg through yours. You take a moment to take in how simply _right _it feels, to have him there with you. You gingerly wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer. You hear him softly whisper that he loves you. You tell him that you love him, too.

The plan has come undone, and you could not be more grateful.


End file.
